*Natasha, presenting Maria with a tiny spiky cactus, with a little red flower on top, after she moved desks*
Clint: You’re in love with her but instead of telling her you bought her a plant.
Natasha:
Clint: Hey it kind looks like you
*wack*
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After Laura and Hill catch Bruce and Natasha without them knowing. Clint is in the other room.
Laura: Hill, Hill. It's okay!
Hill (yelling) : No, they're making out!
Laura: I know! I know!
Hill: You know?
Laura: Yes, I know and Tony knows, but Clint doesn't know, so you have to stop screaming!
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curveball: platonic clintnat with hair brushing/braiding and scars
“Sit.” Natasha’s tone leaves no room for argument, so Clint does as he’s told and sits behind her. “Brush,” she says, handing him her favourite hair brush. “I need to think.”
Clint gathers her hair and starts brushing in long, smooth strokes. She still has a little blonde in her hair, but it’s mostly back to red now. As he brushes, he gets glimpses of the scars on her neck, the ones covered by her hair.
He’s never asked how she got them and she’s never told—there are some things even best friends don’t talk about, and if there’s one thing they are, it’s best friends—but he knows that if she hadn’t already done it, he’d have hunted down every person who ever gave her a scar and done bad things to them.
Minutes pass and they sit in silence. Clint normally can’t sit still for very long, even if he’s got something to occupy his hands, but he’d do anything for Nat. He’s reminded of the last time he came to her with his aids out and she played with his hair until he was ready to hear the world again. That’s the kind of thing they do for each other—well, that and covering for each other when they go on murderous rampages.
He braids her hair carefully, making sure it’s tight enough to stay in place if she gets into a fight but loose enough to not give her a headache, and kisses the top of her head when he’s done. “Was I quiet enough?” he asks, because Nat still believes love is for children and even if he means it, it’s better to show than tell with her.
She nods and squeezes his arm briefly. “One might almost believe you have impulse control,” she says, because Clint still doesn’t like compliments unless he’s too fucked out to refute them and they don’t do that anymore, but he still likes knowing he helped.
“I most certainly do not,” Clint says, grinning as he hauls her up onto the couch. “Dog Cops?”
Natasha rolls her eyes but nods. “Two episodes,” she says, because even if she doesn’t like the show, he does and she would do anything for him.
“I’ll get those chips you like,” Clint says, because wven if he thinks her chips are stinky and gross, she likes them and he’d do anything for her.
That’s what they do.
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Natasha: Remember! Curiosity killed the cat!
Clint: Yes, but you forget that satisfaction brought it back. So yes, Peter, go find out if that thing can catch fire!
Natasha: You're a bad influence.
Clint: And you don't know your sayings.
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OK Marvel, this isn’t funny anymore. Give Yelena her sister back,
Clint his best friend back,
and Bruce his love back (hasn’t he suffered enough).
Just give us Natasha Romanoff back! 😭
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